


The Play's the Thing

by orphan_account



Category: Points - Melissa Scott & Lisa A. Barnett
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, Theatre, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A between-the-books missing scene: as requested, here is the theatre date Philip remembers fondly in Chapter 1 of <i>Point of Dreams</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Play's the Thing

"All right." Hanselin Caiazzo straightened the stacks of tablets on his desk. "I think that's enough for now."

"Enough for what, Hanse?" The greying woman seated across from him frowned.

The merchant leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I've worked you like horses for the past two weeks, Aice, you and Eslingen both. Take the half day and reacquaint yourselves with whatever lives you have beyond my walls. We're past the worst of it now - now that the broadsheets have the truth of what happened in the Ajanes, we're well on our way to replacing the de Mailhac gold in our coffers."

"And the caravan to the Silklands is already on the road," Denizard said as she closed her own tablets, "dulling the need for ready coin?"

"That helped," said Caiazzo with a laugh, "as does the current fascination with Philip and his escapades." He nodded toward Eslingen, standing near the window. "You're the heroes of the broadsheets, Eslingen, you and Rathe and b'Estorr. I think half our recent visitors have come to propose partnership only to catch a glance of the fabled lieutenant."

Philip smiled and sketched a slight bow toward his employer. "I serve as best I can, although it is your reputation and skill that has them opening their purses once they've seen the sights."

"However it's managed, it seems to be working," Denizard said as she stood. "The half day, you said? Come, Philip, before Hanse thinks of somewhere else we must be." Her wide skirts brushed Philip's breeches as she swept past.

He fell in behind her after closing the heavy door to Caiazzo's office. "I've a message to deliver for him, down to the counting house. Is there anything I can do for you while I'm out, Aicelin?"

She went down the stairway and stopped in the main hall, turning to him with a smile. "You can take the half day and enjoy yourself, Philip. Deliver Hanse's message and then forget about him for a few hours. He won't want us again until the start of the new week, and if he does, you know he can find us wherever in Astreiant we may be. You've not had a free day since you returned - take advantage."

"Yes, magist." Eslingen bowed as she went down the hall toward her rooms, laughing. He checked his sash for the letter and left the building, ready to stretch his legs on the walk between the house in Customs Point and the counting house on the wharf. The intense heat of summer had passed in the last week, making the air around the wharves more tolerable than it had been on previous errands. 

After completing his task, he decided to visit the printers' stalls in search of new reading material. Philip smiled and nodded at the many people who noticed him, surprised at how many whispers followed him. He knew that, as Caiazzo had said, the expedition to the Ile'nord in search of the stolen Astreianter children had been the talk of the city, but he had expected the broadsheets to turn their attention back to the political maneuvers that swirled around the queen's choice of successor - _should she truly be making the announcement this time,_ he thought ruefully, _and this not be just another rumor_. It had been the succession, after all, that had sparked the machinations behind the abductions: the Maseigne de Mailhac's negotiations with Caiazzo and Madame Alleyns, the magist who doubled the output of the maseigne's gold mine, the rogue astrologers, the tracking seals, all of it.

Philip shook his head to push the thoughts away, trying to forget the worst and remember the companionship that had built between the four companions on their worried journey north, and the much-slower return home with the eighty-four children and the prince-marshal's regiments now part of their party. Suddenly, he frowned. Had that day truly been the last time he'd seen Rathe, clinking mugs at Point of Hopes in celebration? He stopped walking for a moment, stepping out of the traffic on the road, and changed direction.

Half an hour later, Eslingen had crossed the river and made his way into Hopes. He nodded at the runners waiting outside the station, smiling broadly as he spotted the neatly-dressed girl sitting on a horse trough with her stitching. "It's good to see you, Asheri, safe at home."

She looked up, and matched his smile with her own. "Lieutenant! I'll tell Nico you're here." She folded her work into her sash and ran inside.

Philip followed, letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior. "I just came to say hello," he said to nobody in particular.

"Of course you did," the duty point said. She grinned at Philip and pointed in the direction Asheri had gone. "He's in his workroom."

Philip took the few steps necessary to enter the narrow anteroom, slipping Asheri a few demmings as she went out around him. "I've come to stare at you," he said, dropping into the rickety chair across the table from Rathe. "I figure you haven't gotten near enough attention out of this entire situation."

Nico grinned, dropping his stylus to rub his hands across his face. "Of course not. The life of an innocent recluse, that's me." He leaned back in his chair. "You here on business?"

"Master Caiazzo has given us the half day," Philip said, able to stay his laughter until almost the end of his sentence. "He's managed to recoup his losses and is probably purring happily in the baths at this very moment."

"Trust Hanse to turn up on his feet. Meanwhile we're catching up on all the other trouble in Hopes that's been put aside." Nico grimaced. "You'd think the criminals would have given us a bit of peace as an accolade, but no. I've been working almost straight through since we got home."

"You too?" Philip frowned for a moment, noting the deep shadows under Rathe's eyes and the shirt even more crumpled than usual. "Look, how about an evening away? Dinner, the new play at the Tyrseia? Honestly, Nico, you look as if you could use it."

Before Eslingen had even finished speaking, Rathe was already shaking his head and waving his hand toward the stacked tablets at each end of his worktable. "I can't, Philip. Look at all this. Reports to finish, people to visit.... Ranazy got reassigned to Fair's Point a few days ago, and while I don't miss him, he's one less warm body here to give a hand." He smiled apologetically. "Maybe by autumn balance?"

"Don't be a fool, Nico."

Philip turned at the new voice and rose immediately, bowing to the woman standing in the door. "Chief Point. If I'm hampering the adjunct point's work, I'll leave straight away."

"And now you're the fool, Lieutenant." Chief Point Monteia smiled at him, then turned a full frown at Rathe. "He's been working himself to the bone as if there were no other points at this station. Nico, take the rest of the day. And tomorrow, for that matter."

"Chief...."

"You're no good to me like this, Nico." Monteia crossed her arms. "By the next bell, I expect you out the door."

Rathe sighed and gave Eslingen a twisted smile. "Neither of you care a seilling for the queen's law, do you?"

Philip laughed as he bowed again to the Chief Point. "Meet me at Wicked's, Nico, at first sunset. I'm off to order a posy for your chief." He left Rathe's anteroom humming, amused at the grumbles and sharp retorts that followed him out of the station.

***

Nearly five hours later, Eslingen entered the tavern and looked around. Wicked caught his eye from her seat at the stone bar, and tilted her head toward a table in the corner where Rathe sat, scanning a broadsheet. Philip crossed the room toward him, nodding at the few people he knew. "Is that the one that says the queen is waiting for ghost-tide before making her decision?"

Rathe smiled and handed the broadsheet to Philip. "No, I'd not seen that - we've two months and more to go before ghost-tide anyway. This is just another one about the Ile'nord affair, but luckily it's about Belvis's candidacy and doesn't mention any of us." He waited for Philip to take his seat, then filled both their glasses with the flinty white wine he always drank. "If your Leaguer tongue can't take this, I'm sure you can sweet-talk Wicked into bringing you beer."

"I'd have better luck trying to bed your Chief Point," Eslingen said lightly as he sipped the wine, glad to see Nico relax as he laughed. "Did you obey and take the afternoon off?"

"I did. I went to the baths and visited my laundress. You?"

"Equally exciting. I went by the Tyrseia and picked up tickets." Philip grinned ruefully. "The seller recognized me. It took twice as long as it should have, answering her questions." He decided not to mention the hour or more he'd spent freshening the lace that edged his best shirt, brushing his hair carefully into a queue and binding it with an ink-blue ribbon, then trying on all his waistcoats to find the right one for the evening.

Nico shook his head and drank some wine. "It's sad to admit that I'm not even sure what the play is, I've been so busy." He sat back as Wicked brought them the evening's meal, Astreianter noodles and cheese with an herb salad alongside, then picked up his fork. "For that matter, this is the first meal I've not bought from a stall or a cart in days."

Philip laughed softly. "That's one point in Hanse's favor, then. The play's called _The Season's Balance_ \- it's said to be quite good."

"It wouldn't matter if it weren't," Nico said. "I'm just glad of the evening, and the company." He smiled at Philip again, his eyes warm. "Tell me what you've been doing the past two weeks?"

They fell into easy conversation as they ate, cleaning their plates and then lingering over the last of the wine until they heard the clock at Hopes-point Bridge chime. "Just enough time to walk to Dreams," Philip said, "unless you'd rather take a low-flyer."

"Walk, I think," Nico said. "It's a fine night for it."

They made their way out of the tavern and onto the road, following the others on their way to the playhouses for an evening's entertainment. They continued to talk as they went, the topics shifting from work to travel to politics and back through plays and songs until they arrived at the Tyrseia. Philip took their tickets from his cuff and presented them to the man at the door, who scrutinized the tickets, Eslingen, and Rathe in turn and then beckoned a runner from the shadows. "Upstairs to the left."

Nico's eyebrows drew together as he looked at Philip. "A box?"

"I just bought seats in the stalls, Nico." Philip tapped the runner on the shoulder. "I think we're down here."

"Compliments of the stage," the runner said.

Nico halted, his hand on Philip's arm. "We'll take the stalls, or pay the difference."

"No, sir," the runner said, flushing brightly. "It's more that - well, the lieutenant's known and so are you, and the mistress figured that if you were in the stalls, people would be whispering and talking enough to make the actors shout. So she put you in a box."

Philip smiled at Nico. "It's not a fee, Nico, just a convenience. Is that all right?"

Nico's flare of annoyance faded as he returned Philip's smile. "Yes, although I'd have liked to be asked first."

"And you'd have said no, just as you did to me this afternoon," Philip whispered as they followed the runner and waited while he unlocked the door, then ushered them into a small room with a low front wall open to the stage, a table with a bottle of wine and two glasses, and a low divan scattered with pillows. The runner bowed awkwardly and left with a few demmings from Rathe's purse in his hand, closing the door behind him. After removing his coat and hanging it behind the door, Philip sat on the edge of the divan and looked at the crowd below. "This is quite nice. Better than squeezing into the narrow seats down there."

Nico opened the bottle and poured them each a glass, then joined Philip on the sofa. "Or in some of those other boxes. See, across the way? Three regents in a row, and the advocacy on the floor above." He took a sip and grimaced. "I can feel the politics from here."

"Not tonight," Philip said, taking his glass from Nico. "Let them have it, and we shall have wine and theatre." He relaxed, leaning back into the pillows and enjoying the warmth of Nico's thigh against his as he drank. Soon, the sound of a drum announced the play's start, and the roar of conversation dropped to a low murmur as the chorus advanced onto the stage. When the prologue was done, Philip got up and refilled their glasses, then sat on the divan again, pressing even closer to Nico's flank and arm.

Nico chuckled and sipped his wine. He leaned to whisper into Philip's ear, his lips brushing along Philip's jaw as he did so. "Have you dismissed the playwright's effort already, Eslingen?"

"I think Bonfortune might have his eye on me," Philip murmured, "with this unexpected luck of a private box." He drained his glass and took Nico's from him, leaning forward to place them on the floor at the base of the front wall. When he leaned back, Rathe's arm was around him.

"We wouldn't want to abuse a god's gift," Nico said solemnly, though his eyes were dancing as he pulled Philip closer, lips sliding from jaw to cheek and finally to Eslingen's own mouth, the kiss long and gentle.

Philip returned the kiss, deepening it as he slipped his arms around Nico. When the kiss finally ended, Philip rested his forehead against Nico's and smiled. "I was worried you might not be interested."

Nico snorted. "No, that was what _I_ was worrying over." He kissed Philip again, hands wandering across his back and down to the flare of his hips, shifting his weight so that Philip would stretch out along the divan with Nico atop him.

Philip hummed happily as Nico settled into place, exploring Rathe's mouth and face with his lips and hooking one leg up over Nico's to hold him in place. "We're both idiots, then," he whispered as he kissed down to the hollow of Nico's throat, gently sucking against the pulse and sliding his hands down to hold Nico's hips firmly.

After a long while, Nico rested his cheek against Philip's shoulder, pressing light kisses to his chest as he caught his breath. "I'm not the most ideal choice," he began.

"Stop," Philip said, placing a finger against Nico's mouth, then tracing the bow of his upper lip softly. "Nor am I. Let the stars rule, Nico, and we'll follow along." He rocked a bit against Nico's hip, hard in his breeches from the kisses and touches so long imagined, and exhaled with delight as he felt Nico pushing back against him with equal arousal. As he reached to unbutton Nico's waistcoat, the drum sounded again and a wave of chatter immediately filled the theatre with sound.

"Seidos's Horse," Nico groaned. "Intermission." He kissed Philip once again, hard and intense, then pushed himself up and to his feet. "We may have visitors if we were spotted on our way in, and I'm in need of the privy."

Philip got to his feet, nodding. "I'll follow you there." He took his coat from the hook and shrugged into it, buttoning it and arranging his coat-skirts carefully. "Thank the gods the fashion is for a full skirt this year, else I'd be advertising something I'm not prepared to share beyond present company."

Nico raised an eyebrow and pulled him close for one more kiss. "Glad to hear it." He stepped away and opened the door, the bright noise of conversation meeting them like a curtain. They made their way out into the crowd, down to the privy, and back up again, stopping to chat only long enough to avoid rudeness. They reached their box just as the drum struck again, pulling the door shut behind them at the second strike.

As Philip began to undo his coat, Nico pushed him against the door and kissed him, demanding and receiving equal intensity from Philip. "You could have had any of the landames or landseurs out there, Lieutenant Eslingen. Why are you here with me?"

Philip grasped Nico's hips again and ground into him, making his renewed arousal obvious. "Because, Adjunct Point, it's you I want to be with."

"Idiot," Nico whispered, his voice amused and fond. He nuzzled the soft skin of Philip's neck where it met the lace edge of his collar, letting the back of his hand fall across the bulge in Philip's breeches. "Have you any idea what happened in the first act?"

"None whatsoever." Philip unbuttoned Nico's coat and slid his hands inside, circling Nico's waist. "I thought I might find a broadsheet tomorrow that gave the plot, in case someone asks."

Nico laughed between kisses. "You're willing to let the second act go as well?"

"It's no use without the first," Philip said. He caught Nico's gaze, watching his eyes shift between grey and green in the flickering mage-light from the stage, and let his voice drop low and husky. "Take me home, Nico."

"Gods, yes," Nico said, pulling his hands away from Philip's hair and chest to do up Philip's coat, his fingers a bit clumsy on the buttons.

Philip returned the favour, kissing him gently after each button was settled into its buttonhole. He smoothed his hair back, catching the bits that had fallen free and retying his ribbon, then twined his fingers into Nico's. "Low-flyer? It's faster."

Nico touched Philip's cheek for a moment, then opened the door. "Let's hope we can find a driver with his stars in Seidos to make it even quicker." They hurried down the stairs and out onto the street, the starlight washing across their faces as they went. 

 


End file.
